


Song for Ten

by midnightinbarcelona



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Lords & Ladies, F/M, Mentioned The Doctor/The Doctor's TARDIS, Parents Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Post-Episode AU: s02e13 Doomsday, Rose Tyler Loves the Doctor, Tenth Doctor Angst, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Fluff, The Doctor Loves Rose Tyler, The Doctor's Incarnations (Doctor Who) Are Siblings, The Doctor/Rose Tyler Fluff, Time Lord Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27523255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightinbarcelona/pseuds/midnightinbarcelona
Summary: A fun songfic for one of my favorite songs in Doctor Who, "Song for Ten." Lots of Tenth Doctor angst, which I always enjoy reading and writing. Enjoy!
Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Original Character/Original Character, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler
Kudos: 9





	Song for Ten

“Well I woke up today  
And the world seemed a restless place  
It could have been that way for me.”

The Doctor kicked his control panel with a grimy red sand shoe, eliciting a groan from the TARDIS. A sigh spilled from his lips. “Sorry, old girl.” He really hadn’t meant to let his anger out, but neither had he meant to let her out of his life. 

That was how it went with all of his companions, of course. He knew that. Loss was a state with which the Doctor was well acquainted. 

But she had been his pink and yellow human, the only one he had ever - dare he think the word - loved. 

He sank into a chair, his thoughts wandering to Rose Tyler once again. He had left her on that beach, where dusk was falling into night. Was she snuggling under a comforter in a hotel, slipping on a pair of socks before bed, or taking one last yawn before she settled in for a long night’s slumber? 

Humans had limits, sure, but they were also beautiful, creative, fearful, and so utterly naive. Naivety sounded rather intriguing to the 900 year-old Time Lord at the moment. 

And then, in the morning, she would wake to a noisy, bustling world, with jobs to do and people to see. Time was not as wibbly wobbly in her world as it was in his. One task after another, one day at a time. 

But yet, she was so wonderfully complicated. 

Humans and their many roles formed the real wibbly wobbliness of reality. While it wasn’t multiple lines of time, human lives consisted of so many threads that created intricate tapestries of their identities. 

She was a defender, a fighter, and… an employee of Torchwood. And one day, she would most likely find someone she loved so well as he loved her, and she would become a wife and mother. 

Once upon a twist of fate, it could have been the same for him.

And he would dream of her from afar, wishing their stars hadn’t been crossed so long ago, fantasizing of a million ways he could come back, all resulting in the end of the universe it seemed.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“And I wandered around  
And I thought of your face  
That Christmas looking back at me.”

*** 

She had such vibrant blonde hair, she did, as she smiled at him in the glow of stringed lights and candles. “Come on, Doctor. Take one o’ the crackers, see what ya get!”

His grin hurt his cheeks as he took a cracker from the bowl, finding a red paper crown inside. “Fit for a Lord of Time, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” she chirped as she helped him put it on his head, “it’s a bit small for you, bu’ it’ll make do. What do you think, Mum?”

“What do I think? I think it’s a new man with a new face, might ‘s well take a new crown wi’ it,” an older version of the blonde girl chuffed across the table.

“Looks good on you, Doctor,” another man nodded at him. 

“Thanks. It feels good. Feels good to have a few calm moments.”

The blonde girl looked up upon hearing faint sounds from the living room. She hopped up out of her seat to watch a box of fantastical projections, and he followed her. A woman in official-looking attire insisted that she was in good health, despite flying rumors.

“Looks like you took her down, didn’t ya? Right on wi’ you, Doctor.”

He nodded at her, not quite remembering how he had “taken her down,” but if it made the blonde girl happy, he considered it a victory. 

And then the older woman had gotten a call on a telecommunication device about snow falling outside. They all hurried to see what they could of it, and upon spotting the white flakes, a wave of guilt and fear washed over him. The blonde girl seemed to sense his surge of emotion, and she took his hand. He looked down at her, a small smile resting on her lips. His heart (which felt much stronger than usual) fluttered slightly as her smile widened into a grin. 

“Merry Christmas, Doctor.”

***

John Smith bolted upright in bed. Beads of sweat clung to his brow. His eyes were wide with a mix of something like confusion and something like familiarity. What was the blonde girl’s name? 

His maid peeked in the room in her nightclothes, her eyes scanning him for any signs of trouble. “Everything alright, Mr. Smith?”

He hadn’t realized how heavy he was breathing. “Of course, Martha. Why wouldn’t it be? Just a wild dream, ‘s all.” 

“As you say, sir. Call if you need anything.”

“Right, right,” he breathed, waiting for the maid to leave his chambers before he reached for his Journal of Impossible Things. Without a second thought, his fingers flew to his pen, the ink blots scribbling away to create the blonde girl of whom he had dreamed. 

As he drew her eyes, his pen dropped, leaving a few ink blots on the sheets. Martha would have to tend to those in the morning. He drew in a breath, his eyes meeting the drawing’s, as if he was under a gypsy’s spell. 

But only Nurse Redfern had ever made him feel that way. 

And then, his fingers deceived his heart, as he wrote, “She is my star.” His cheeks flooded with color as he slammed the book shut and ducked back under the sheets, shielding himself from whatever emotions he couldn’t control. He had to find this blonde vision, at whatever cost, and make her feel as special as she had made him feel on that Christmas.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
“And I started to walk  
Pretty soon I will run  
And I'll be running back to you.”

The Doctor’s knuckles were white as he knocked on the door of the small French beach house. A few moments passed, his hearts racing in his chest. He had rehearsed this moment too many times in his dreams.

His metacrisis doppleganger appeared in the doorway, a small smile upon his lips. “Bonjour, old friend.”

“Hello, Dr. Tyler. Always a pleasure.”

“Same to you, Doctor,” John nodded as he let the Time Lord into the entryway of the house. 

“I think you know why I’m here. I believe congratulations are in order for the three of you.”

A call echoed from deep within the house. “Doctor?”

His smile was soft as Dr. John Tyler guided him to the bedroom, where a terribly familiar face grinned back at him. “Rose Tyler, the Bad Wolf, and wife to the world’s most brilliant doctor, and mother to the soon-to-be greatest writer of the 21st Century.”

Rose’s grin matched her husband’s. “How? I mean, it’s so good to see you.”

“You too. And this lovely little lady must be Eleanor.”

“John, do you want to show her to him?” Rose offered, handing the mewing baby to her husband. 

“Of course.” He cradled the infant in his arms, rocking her gently.

The Doctor smiled down at him. “Thank you for everything, John. This is what I wanted for her,” he mumbled in the new father’s ear. 

John nodded slowly. “It’s what I wanted too.”

Rose’s eyes met the Doctor’s. “Doctor, if it’s alright with John, would you consider being Eleanor’s godfather?”

The Doctor and John exchanged glances. 

“I don’t see why he shouldn’t be,” John piped up.

The Doctor’s eyes widened. “Really? My little goddaughter? I’m honored.”

“Promise me one thing and she’s your little goddaughter for all of time.”

“Anything, Rose Tyler.”

Rose drew in a breath. “Promise me you’ll protect her. Always look out for her.”

“You have my word.”

“Would you like to hold your goddaughter?” John smiled at him. 

The Doctor’s breath caught in his throat. He took the tiny child into his arms, an indescribable reverence passing over his being. “Hello, El. I’m your godfather. You and I may never see each other ever again, but I will always be here for you. The monsters under your bed will always fear me, and the monsters in your head will never question me when I come to help you. I love you.” 

The baby reached her tiny arms out to him. A thousand memories of his children and grandchildren pulsed through his mind. He handed her to her father and waved to her parents. “I have to go. Urgent business in Raxacoricofallapatorius. I’ll be around, don’t you worry. Take good care of them, John.”

“Always, Doctor.”

“Thank you, Doctor Tyler.”

As the Doctor slipped out and closed the door behind him, his ears pricked at the sound of Eleanor’s cries, his heartstrings wrenching for a moment. How desperately his red sand shoes longed to run to her side and guard her from whatever fears she might encounter. 

Just like Rose.

And just like last time, he had to remain far away, for her own safety. The best kind of guard was one who was always on duty. 

And one who was always ready to run to action.  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
“'Cause I followed my star  
And that's what you are  
I've had a merry time  
With you.”

His fingers tingled for a few brief moments as he waited for Eleanor’s hand to grasp his. He placed her palm on a lever, then ordered her to pull it towards her body. Her smile was so much like Rose’s he noted as the TARDIS lurched forward into the realms between time and space. 

In her brown eyes, he spied the stars he had seen in Rose’s on that Christmas day, which he had so desperately pursued from afar. 

And now, as his hand rested on his goddaughter’s, he knew there would be plenty more stars to chase, now that a fragment of his star had come to be with him forever.

But Eleanor was no fragment, he corrected himself.

She was a star in her own right, one worthy of illuminating the darkness found between the pages of a book and a blot of ink. 

However, he wasn't her star. She’d find her own in her own time. Those memories of Rose washed over him in tidal waves, all those wild adventures, those quiet moments in the TARDIS, and those heart wrenching goodbyes (of which there had been far too many). 

As he glanced at his goddaughter, his intuition struck. 

Her stars with her future love would be more than aligned, just as his and Rose’s had always been crossed. 

Even if they were crossed the whole time, he would never trade his memory of the New Year’s Day he had seen Rose’s brightest smile. He’d had the merriest time, just drinking in her joy in the few seconds they’d shared.

It was all rather fantastic, in his memory.

**Author's Note:**

> That's it! As always, feel free to leave suggestions for future works or improvements/critiques for this one. Kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
